by J. L. Drake
I shoved my hands into my pockets. “Yeah. I think she was a little overwhelmed.”
“She seems like a nice girl. But let’s be frank here: she’s not one of us. She’ll never be one of us. If today showed us anything, it’s that she’ll never fit in. She’ll be a liability from today until the day she dies.”
I forced my face to remain a blank mask despite the anger surging through me. Losing my temper or lashing out at Dominick wouldn’t help Evie or me. “When have I ever done anything to jeopardize the family or you? I wouldn’t bring someone into this family who I didn’t trust. Who I didn’t think would be an asset.”
“I know, I know, but have you thought this through? From what I heard, she wants to be an actress on Broadway. With any luck, she’ll reach some level of notoriety. Then you know what happens?” He lifted his hands, his ruby ring glinting off the overhead light of the chandelier. “People will start looking at you. That will inevitability lead people back to the family and me. I know you don’t want that, and I sure as hell don’t need any light shining on us. We’re finally gaining some ground now that the FBI and those jackoffs at the Department of Homeland Security are focused on terrorism instead of us.”
Staring at the floor, I pinched the bridge of my nose. “What are you saying? You want me to end the engagement?”
“Gianluca, I promoted you because you have a knack for making difficult decisions, not because your dad wanted it. You’ll figure out what to do.” He squeezed my shoulder. “I heard she’s seen some stuff.”
My head snapped up. “Who told you that?”
He scratched the side of his face. “It doesn’t matter who told me. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t mention it.”
Fucking Carlo. I knew I couldn’t trust him. With soldiers like him, I didn’t need enemies. I had to convince Dominick to assign him to some other unsuspecting capo. “Since when have you wanted to micromanage every detail? You don’t need to worry about Evangeline. Ya’ gotta know, I have this under control.”
Dominick pinned me with his dark stare. Then, he lifted his chin. “All right. I’ll let you take care of this for now, but know that the day might come when you need to make a tough call. Until then, I need to know you’ll make the right choice. You’ll protect this thing of ours.”
I bowed my head. “Yeah, you know I will.”
He slapped me on the shoulder. “Good. You’re better than some of those other young turks.”
I flinched. Young turks was what he called the younger, less traditional generation of Mafiosi. The older guys looked down on us. They believed we were more inclined to break the old rules. In my mind, it was a direct slight.
“Yeah. Yeah. I need to get back to Evie.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Evangeline
I stared at Gian from the corner of my eye as he navigated the Sunday evening traffic. He hadn’t said much of anything since he spoke with his uncle. At dinner, he answered every inquiry with as little information as possible, and he pushed us out the door the minute I finished my dessert.
“Dinner was wonderful. Your mom’s a good cook. I can’t believe how much food she made. She could’ve fed the entire neighborhood.” I toyed the folds of my dress. “I kind of feel guilty that she did all that when we’re just…you know.”
“Don’t worry about it. She likes to entertain,” he answered, glancing in the rearview mirror.
“Yeah, I guess. What did your uncle want?”
He frowned, his fingers tapping impatiently against the center console. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
“He probably thinks I’m an idiot. I can’t believe I fainted.” I squared my shoulders. “For the record, tonight was the first time that happened, so you don’t need to worry about bringing me in public.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Uh-huh.”
“Gian, what’s the matter? Are you mad at me? Did I ruin everything?” I cataloged my conversations at dinner. “Did I say something stupid? Your family hated me, didn’t they?”
My shoulders drooped under the weight of the self-created disasters infecting my life. Gian’s dad had said exactly five words to me all night—“It’s nice to meet you.”
Dinner conversation wasn’t much better. His uncle’s early departure set the tone of the celebration. Clearly, he found me wanting, and everyone else agreed with his assessment. Everyone bowed and scraped around him like he was some sort of king. The instant that thought floated through my mind, the pieces of the puzzle clicked together, refusing to be buried under layers of excuses any longer.
Dominick wasn’t merely Gian’s uncle—he was the head of the Trassato crime family. The same one people whispered about in hushed murmurs with an equal measure of awe and disgust. While Gian and Carmela had never confirmed or denied anything, the writing was on the wall.
Panic wrapped around my ribcage like a tourniquet. A gust of air whooshed out of my lungs. Needles of fear pricked at my skin like thousands of poison-tipped arrows. The thudding of my heart drowned out the sound of the radio.
Holy shit.
No.
No.
No.
This isn’t real.
Trembling, I covered my mouth with my hand.
“Evie, are you listening to me?” Gian’s voice snapped me out of the ocean of tragedy I’d been drowning in.
“What?” I rotated toward him. One hand white-knuckled the steering wheel while the other clawed at his hair. His eyes glittered with menace. His lips were pinched. “What’s wrong?”
“Open the fucking glove box and hand me the gun.”
My stomach twisted into a knot. “The gun? What do you need a—”
His body bristling with violence, he slammed his hand against the dash, and I flinched. “Dammit! Don’t question me. Just do what I ask for once.”
Unable to get my hands to cooperate, I fumbled with the latch on the glove box.
“Make this stop,” I pleaded to no one in particular.
A car hit our bumper. A loud crash echoed through my ears, and my neck whipped forward, then backward, slamming against the headrest.
Gian shoved my head down and flipped open the glove box. The shiny metal of the gun blurred through the air like a shooting star. I pinched my eyes shut. My muscles tensed, anticipating. Dreading. Fearing.
Bang.
The rear driver’s side window shattered. Glass showered the top of my head.
Bang.
Engines revved, and my heart escalated right along with it.
Bang.
Tires squealed.
A loud, piercing noise echoed through the car, and it took me a second to realize I was screaming. I slapped a hand over my mouth, not wanting to call attention to myself. With my head braced against my thighs, I stared blankly out the window, peering at the smattering of stars playing peek-a-boo with the heavily clouded night sky.
The car whipped around the corner, and my butt slid across the seat. My shoulder bumped into the leather-upholstered door. The second I lifted my head, Gian sideswiped a parked car. The side mirror exploded into tiny shards of glass. They glittered like diamond dust in the moonlight.
“Stay down!” he yelled, shoving my head down again.
“What’s going on?” I asked, my heart hammering hard enough to split open my ribcage.
“Exactly what you think.” He tossed his phone in my lap. “Call Tony. He’s in my favorites.”
The phone slipped out of my hand and fell to the floorboard. Blindly searching, my hand scoured the rubber floor mat. The seatbelt bit into my flesh with every twist and turn. Finally, the tips of my fingers brushed against the solid rectangle. I lifted it, slid my finger across the screen and called Tony.
One ring.
Two rings.
“What’s up?”
“It’s Evie.” My voice sounded like I had swallowed a cup of acid.
The car hopped up on the curb, and we narrowly missed a stop sign. My teeth clacked together
, grazing the tip of my tongue when Gian yanked the steering wheel to the right and off the sidewalk. I clutched the side panel on the door, the coppery taste of blood hitting my tongue.
“Evie? Evie? Are you still there?”
“Yeah. Somebody shot at us and crashed into Gian’s car.”
“What the fuck?” he yelled. “Where are you guys?”
“Tell him to meet us at my house in twenty minutes,” Gian said, his gaze zigzagging between the road in front of us and the rear view mirror.
“Did you hear what he said, Tony?”
“Yeah. Yeah. I’m on it.” When the line went dead, I dropped the phone into my lap. A warm liquid trickled down my hand. Transfixed, I stared at the blood dripping from my fingers. It looked like ink in the dim light of the car.
Gian’s hand swept over the top of my hair. “I think we lost them. You can sit up now.”
I didn’t move. I couldn’t. I stared sightlessly at my hand, my breaths choppy and my mind blank. Tears dripped from my chin, and I realized I was crying.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
I jerked my head rather than answering because there was no simple answer. My mind buzzed with too many jumbled emotions to communicate.
A few minutes later, we pulled into the two car garage on the garden level of Gian’s home, and I finally sat up. I blinked, cataloguing every fear and pain. My body ached, and nausea and uncertainty clawed at me, spreading through me like a slow drip IV.
The passenger door opened, and I still didn’t move.
“Come on, sweetheart. We’re safe now.” Gian circled one arm around my shoulder and the other under my knees. I buried my face in his neck, inhaling his scent like it was the antidote for everything that ailed me.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Gian
Still humming with adrenaline and my thoughts shifting like chess pieces, I carried Evie into my home. I didn’t know where to start. As much as I loved to believe otherwise, tonight wasn’t a random act of violence. Someone had targeted me. Or Evie. I couldn’t rule anything out at this point.
Sure, the Trassato family had enemies, which by extension were my enemies. We’d been battling for territory with the Russian Mafia for years as they flexed their muscle and crept out of Brighton Beach. They were big into heroin distribution, and for the most part, I stayed away from the drug trafficking business, which led me to believe they’d target the other capos before me. It didn’t make sense.
“Hey.” Tony stood at the base of the stairs. “Are you both okay?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “My car is fucked up, but we’re both fine.”
“Put me down. I can walk,” Evie mumbled into my chest.
She looked up at me, her eyes wide and imploring, her cheeks rose-stained, and her hand a bloody fucking mess. “Tony, I can’t talk now. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” I jogged up the steps, ignoring Evie’s request. I didn’t want to put her down. I’d been in more than my fair share of dangerous situations, and I stayed calm and clearheaded. Tonight was different. They’d put Evie in harm’s way.
The miserable fuckers who had the audacity to come after my girl would pay. I’d make sure of it. Nobody fucked with my family or me without consequences. Nobody. Evie may not be my real fiancée, but nobody knew that, and if I let this slide, no man would ever take me seriously.
Evie lifted her head. “Where are we going?”
I opened my bedroom door went into the bathroom, setting Evie on the counter. “You’re staying in my room tonight.”
“N-n-no,” she stuttered. “I’m not comfortable with that.” When she moved to get off the counter, I wedged my hips between her legs, blocking her escape.
“You don’t have a choice. Tony has already commented on the fact that you sleep in the guest bedroom.”
“So what?” She raised her eyebrows. “You said you trusted Tony. Did you change your mind? What am I missing?”
I brushed a tangled strand of her fiery hair away from her face. “This isn’t about trust. It’s about his oath. If he finds out I lied about us, he can’t protect me, and I wouldn’t ask him to either. His primary duty is to the family, not me.” Darkness flickered across her face, and she closed her eyes for a beat. “And if tonight demonstrated anything, it’s that we don’t have any room to make mistakes.”
“I know.” She swallowed, anxiety creasing her forehead. “I feel like I’m dangling from the cliff and nobody is going to catch me.”
Turning on the faucet, I picked up her hand and held it under the water. “I will,” I said, watching the pink-hued water swirl down the drain. “We’re in this together.”
Dominick’s warning about choosing the family over Evie looped through my head, making my gut churn with more than a little dread. I blew out a breath and shoved the unsettling emotion back into a vault in the recesses of my mind. I wouldn’t let it come to a choice between the family and Evie. I’d find a way out of this mess. I dragged her into this situation, and I would get her out.
I shut off the water and patted her hand with a white washcloth. “It’s not too bad.” I rotated her wrist and inspected her palm. “You have a couple of cuts, but nothing that warrants stitches.” I pulled a stack of bandages from my top drawer and covered the larger cuts.
“Thank you.” She pressed a closed-lipped kiss to my lips, lingering longer than was prudent, given I was ready to pounce at the slightest encouragement. I tasted the lemon sorbet my mom served for dessert on her lips. All too soon, she pulled back, a weak smile picking up the corners of her mouth.
Studying her face, I trailed my hand down her side, along her hip, down the miles of silky skin on her leg. Her flesh pebbled beneath the pads of my fingers, and her pupils swelled. A tsunami of desperation and need hit me in the dead center of my chest.
I wanted to spend the night getting lost in this woman. I wanted to kiss her. Taste her. Adore her. I wanted to put the past and the future in a sealed box and pretend it didn’t exist for a few hours.
I should walk out this door right now, but the longer I looked at her, the more my logic crumbled. I leaned forward, my lips only a whisper away from hers. My brain cells scrambled.
I smelled a hint of jasmine. I saw the tiny gold flecks in her otherwise dark irises. I counted the sprinkle of freckles on her nose. She had seven. It was my new favorite number.
Fuck Tony. He could wait.
“Evie,” I groaned, unable to resist any longer. She was the forbidden fruit, and I needed another taste of her brand of sin.
I let my lips glide across hers. Once. Twice.
Her eyes drifted closed, and a faint hum slipped through her full lips. “Gian, what the hell are we doing?”
“I don’t know.” And I didn’t. This was madness. From the first minute I glimpsed her from across the bar, I’d lost my fucking mind. I made dumb decisions, tempted fate, shamed my family, and stomped on my honor. Sadly, none of that mattered when I got within a hundred feet of this girl.
My arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against me. She trembled, and it had the same effect on me as tossing a match on gasoline. I felt alive for the first time in days. Maybe longer.
Our mouths fused together, and for the life of me, I didn’t know which one of us was the aggressor. My tongue dove in and out of her mouth. Tasting. Teasing. Savoring. My hands were everywhere, and it wasn’t enough. I explored every swell, curve, and indention. She was warm, soft, inviting, and every touch went to my head like a shot of whiskey. At that moment, I’d swear on my uncle’s pinky ring that I’d never get enough of this woman. Her body. Her long, toned legs. Her waist so tiny I could span the circumference with two hands.
I shoved her dress around her waist, and her fingers sunk into my shoulders, indecipherable, breathless sounds rolling from her mouth.
“We’re forgetting,” I murmured, finally answering her question.
She tugged at the front of my shirt, pulling it from the waistband of my pants. Her hands skirte
d underneath. Each measured stroke left me panting with desire. I rocked against her, acutely aware of every centimeter of fabric between us. Regrettably, the friction did nothing to quench the ache building inside of me. I wedged my hand between our bodies, toying with the top edge of her lace panties. Her muscles bunched beneath the pads of my fingers.
Shuddering, she sucked in a gust of air, color blooming on her cheeks. The soft, dreamlike look on her face unhinged me more than I already was.
“Wait.”
“Wait?” I echoed, my fingers inching lower. They had a mind of their own.
She grabbed my wrist, her eyes dark and questioning, and I couldn’t have looked away if I wanted to. I watched a million and one expressions float across her face. I couldn’t remember ever being so caught up in someone before.
“We shouldn’t do this right now.” She blew out a puff of air. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
With a sigh, I leaned my forehead against hers. “No? Because I think it’s a great idea. Come to think of it, I don’t believe I’ve had a better idea in a long time.” I slid my hand lower, cupping her between her legs. “I’ll make you feel good.”
She arched her pelvis against my hand a fraction of an inch and whimpered. “We both know this shouldn’t happen. Don’t make this hard.”
Chuckling, I dragged my nose along her throat up to her mouth. “It’s already hard.”
“We need to stop.” Her words were a velvety purr against my lips, and a jolt of desire zipped down my spine.
“Give me a reason to stop.”
Her teeth grazed my lower lip. “I’ll give you two.”
“Uh-huh.” I glided my finger through her folds. She was so wet, it would be criminal for me to walk away.
“Tony’s waiting for you.” Her pulse fluttered like butterfly wings against the ivory skin of her neck.
“Tony can go fuck himself.”
With her chin tucked against her chest, she stared at me through the veil of her gold-tipped lashes. “This will complicate everything.”
“I like complications.” I hooked a finger inside the knot of my tie and loosened it. “Complications make life interesting.”